


How this Began

by mybabystriders



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Carry on taking place in the Harry Potter world, FLUFF EVENTUALLY, Hogwarts AU, M/M, Pining, Quidditch, Spells & Enchantments, romance eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2018-09-17 14:19:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9328541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mybabystriders/pseuds/mybabystriders
Summary: Taken from the Carry On Countdown prompt - a Hogwarts AU. Simon and Baz carry on in the Harry Potter world and it seems like their rivalry will never end. Simon is no chosen one, just a really clumsy Gryffindor. Baz is no vampire, but he is rich and beautiful. They get paired up for a class project after years of fighting and are finally forced to spend time together doing something other than trying to knock the other off his broomstick. When their relationship becomes complicated, they are forced to consider how everything began from a different perspective.





	1. A Monday Morning

Simon sat, propped against one of the trees by the lake with his burgundy and gold - well, yellow gold - scarf hanging on either side of his neck. It was his sixth year at Hogwarts and he was allowing himself to take in the grounds again. Every year he would come and sit beneath the tree by the lake on the second or third day back to enjoy his surroundings. It was his way of reassuring himself he was back home and somewhere he loved.

Some students were wandering the grounds, mostly older ones who felt more comfortable with the school. Still, there were a few younger groups with bright, curious eyes and new, neat robes laughing nervously as they peered at the castle towers that seemed to stand guard over this part of the grounds. Simon smiled to himself at the happy sight, contemplating whether or not he should get up and go find Penny. It was only the third day, but she would most likely be found in the library before they went to class - that’s probably where she was during breakfast.

Classes began today, actually, which was stressful if given much thought. This year, classes were terribly more demanding than ever before. This was mostly because sixth years had to take N.E.W.T.s and teachers piled on homework to guarantee student preparation. So, though Simon had more free time this year, he didn’t expect to lounge about the grounds much. In fact, he’d probably spend most of his time in the library with Penny. 

He wasn’t quite lucky enough to spend his studying time in the Gryffindor common room in big, comfy chairs by the roaring fireplace. After all, his best studying partner was a Ravenclaw girl he’d met boarding the train in the first year when he couldn’t figure out how to get to the correct platform. 

With no one to guide him, he had been stuck staring at platforms 9 and 10 dumbfoundedly with a packed trolley for what felt like half an hour. Finally, a small family came bustling in with similar looking supplies to those on his list - except the girl with the pointy glasses had a ferret and he had an owl. Penny had caught him staring and had immediately taught him exactly what to do, and then she walked him down the train to find a compartment. She also demanded that he let her buy them snacks from the trolley so she could deem his reaction to all of the new and peculiar sweets. Ever since that day, they had been inseparable.

Simon sighed joyfully, thinking back to his first ride on that train, and stood up. His Monday morning class was Defense Against the Dark Arts, as was usual for half the sixth year students. If he wanted to make it to class on time, he would have to get going since the classroom was on the third floor. So, Simon picked his bag up and tried to prepare himself for what he might be doing, especially since the class was combined with the Slytherins.

Though the Slytherin house had lost most of its bad reputation, the majority of their house tended to act very pompously. Sure, Agatha was in that class, and they were friends - despite their breakup last year, but so was Tyrannus Basilton Pitch. Baz Pitch was one of the most frustrating people Simon had ever known. He did everything he could just to get under Simon’s skin. He had despised Simon since their first day when he had punched him for playing keep away with a girl’s cat. It didn’t help that his family was very pureblood elitist and, as far as Simon knew, he was muggle born. There were rumors that Baz’s family had been allied with You-Know-Who during the past wizarding wars, but there was no evidence of it. Their attitudes towards non-pureblood families were not enough to suffice.

As Simon was climbing the stairs, he ran into another Gryffindor sixth year and she smiled at him. It was Victoire Weasley who looked shockingly similar to Agatha. Due to their resemblance, Simon was convinced for a few months that they were twins until he learned their full names. After that, he realized that their hair wasn’t the same blonde and Agatha’s skin was not dusted with freckles. However, they both were part Veela - Agatha’s was just a bit more prominent.

Simon smiled back in greeting and held the class door open for Victoire. He had arrived to class early, but not early enough. He nearly ran right into Baz and his  _ groupies _ when he entered. They had placed themselves right in front of the door, much to Simon’s displeasure, because as soon as he stepped into the room, their attention turned on him. 

It was the first time he’d seen Baz this year - the dining hall was busier now than it was before the war at Hogwarts, so much so that nearly every classroom was used. In order to accommodate the vast student size, and probably hoping to encourage student bonding throughout the houses, they had added new tables and allowed students to sit wherever they pleased. This meant that you didn’t see everyone each time you walked in. Students were easily missed.

The first thing he noticed was the way Baz had his hair slicked back as if he was trying to show off how perfectly angular his face was, boasting non-verbally about his good looks. He was still taller than Simon, though Simon had a growth spurt over the summer, and his uniform was neatly pressed. His shoes were fancier than necessary, but he had a bruise on his jaw and he looked tired. That was unusual. Unfortunately, that didn’t stop him from narrowing his light gray eyes when he saw Simon.

“Baz,” Simon said awkwardly, attempting to sound cold, but he was still recovering from nearly tripping on Dev.

“Snow,” Baz greeted coolly, not stepping aside to let Simon by. He was infuriating.

Simon huffed and stomped past Baz, finding himself a seat in the middle of the room. He was terrible at holding back his reaction whenever he saw Baz. He just sort of… exploded. His face would get red and he would shake sometimes. Baz just gave off this vibe, like he was bad news. It never helped that he could here Niall snicker at him every time he walked away. This was Defense Against the Dark Arts though, so maybe he would finally get to duel Baz again without risking expulsion. 

Two years ago, they had gotten to duel in class. Baz had knocked him off his feet in seconds. Simon tried to disarm him, but Baz yelled  _ stupefy _ before he had time to even blink. Simon was better with his hands, but he was improving in magic. Somehow, Divination had been a good class for him, as well as Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures. Needless to say, he had lost the duel. All he wanted was redemption, one-on-one, outside of the quidditch pitch.

Simon’s friend Seamus took a seat by him right before class began. Seamus Thomas had the bed closest to Simon each year and had immediately tacked their joining wall with large quidditch posters. He was the team’s seeker the last few years and was bloody brilliant. He told the boys in his room some time the first year that he was named after his father’s friend, who inspired his love of quidditch, but noted that the name thing was confusing when the guy came over for a visit. He also had this big black cat that liked to sleep at the foot of Simon’s bed named Krum after the Bulgarian seeker who returned to the team in 2014. Seamus was very friendly and very entertaining but snored so loud every guy in their room had to buy earplugs when they discovered charming him wasn’t going to work.

When the professor walked in, their conversation about quidditch tryouts for this year was cut short. Nonetheless, Simon was glad for the distraction from Baz who had seated himself and Niall at the table to his right. Convenient.


	2. Control Yourself

Baz had somewhat intentionally placed himself by the door to the classroom, just to be the first thing Simon saw when he walked in. He did that often, just to push Simon’s buttons - to hear him bluster. He enjoyed knowing that he was able to stir Simon in some way, if not the same way Simon did to him.

The moment Simon stepped through the door, Baz could smell him. He always smelled like a mixture of his poor quality soap, smoke, and wood - with a tad bit of breakfast in the dining hall mixed in. At least, that’s what it was like during their time at Hogwarts. He had only seen Simon outside of school once: at the Quidditch World Cup 2014 in Argentina. 

Agatha’s parents had brought him along with them. They were seated in the same box as the Minister of Magic, Hermione Granger-Weasley, and her family as well as the ever-famous Harry Potter and his family. Mr. Wellbelove was the head of some big department in the Ministry, so they got wonderful seats, naturally. As did the Pitches. Despite Granger-Weasley’s disdain for pureblood elitists, his father still had a respectable position. After all, his father’s family was never as bad as his mother’s side, though his mother was an amazing woman and he would personally destroy anyone who said otherwise. 

When they entered the box, Simon stood up in shock. Agatha tried to pull him back down, but he just kept standing there and glaring like he thought Baz was going to send the box up in flames so he could take over the Ministry or something. 

“Honestly, Snow, sit down. I’m not the Queen,” Baz had said cooly. His father placed a hand on his shoulder to remind him to make a good impression.

Simon had stuttered out half an excuse before sitting down. However, he spent most of the game glancing back at Baz whenever Baz so much as moved. He was especially shaken when he introduced himself to Ginny Potter, asking about her latest article for the Daily Prophet.

When Simon stormed past Baz like he was some atrocious beast, Niall snickered. It wasn’t unusual that Simon treated Baz like a monster. Simon tended to act like Baz was some kind of disease that was out to eradicate everyone Simon cared for, and Baz treated Simon like he was a pest in return. However, Baz was only putting on a show. On the contrary, Simon was too expressive to ever hide how he felt. That’s why he still had explosions of accidental magic - like most wizards do as children. Last year, for instance, he caught Baz’s broom on fire during a match when Baz nearly knocked him off his broom as he raced by with the quaffle, as if Baz had shot an unforgivable curse at him.

“Well, gentlemen, I suppose we should find a seat before all the decent ones get nabbed,” Baz suggested, straightening his tie.

Neither of his friends argued. Dev grabbed the desk right beside Simon, of course, pulling out the chair beside him for Baz. He had a devilish grin on his face. When Baz quirked an eyebrow in question, Dev responded with a small shrug and crossed his arms. Niall took the desk in front of them beside some girl in their year who he hadn’t bothered to learn the name of. Niall didn’t miss an opportunity to strike up a conversation, though.

Dev rolled his eyes. “It’s only the third day and he’s already flirting. It’s going to be worse than last year,” he sighed.

“Oh, he’ll give it up when he gets another thing of pumpkin juice poured over his head,” Baz chuckled. That happened last year. Twice.

At that moment, Professor Gore walked in through the back. He was the exact opposite of his ancestor, one of the first headmasters at Hogwarts. He was young, tall and thin with dark brown hair and well-maintained scruff. He dressed like a muggle, too. He almost never wore robes, often opting for a leather jacket or a sweater with patches on the elbows. He was an awesome professor and extremely personable, but he also really liked trying to inspire his students. Whenever he went off on some spiel, Baz would charm a paper airplane to fly in circles around the class. Then, Gore would hit it with  _ incendio  _ and the paper would shrivel up into and ashy mess and fall to the ground. He was never angry about it. In fact, he would smile and say, “Ah, thank you Mister Pitch for keeping me on track,” and continue to teach. He was insufferable.

“Good morning class,” he began as he walked down the middle of the room, right between Baz and Simon. “I hope you all had a wonderful Summer break, but I’m sure you’re all glad to be back. I know I am.”

Seamus let out a loud cheer and Simon chuckled. Agatha, who had found a seat behind Simon whispered, “Oh my gosh, shut up.” Baz rolled his eyes and huffed.

Professor Gore grinned. “I like your enthusiasm, Mister Thomas. I’ve got some good news for the class. You’ll be pleased to hear that, despite your N.E.W.T.s, the rigor of this class is only adjusting to your capabilities and growth as young witches and wizards. That said, we are going to start off with a bit of hands-on review.” He ignored groans that echoed around the room. “Last year we talked about many of the dangerous magical creatures and objects you may encounter, ways to recognize them, and ways to defeat them. We also practiced many higher-level defensive spells. 

What you’re going to do,” he said, beginning to scrawl out a list of creatures and spells on the chalkboard, “is choose one creature, and two spells that work against that creature, and write everything you know about each in the format of your textbook. Then you will attempt to perfect the two spells. As you can see, these are some of the most complex spells we learned and many of you struggled with them, but they are highly important to learn.”

The girl by Niall raised her hand high. “But, sir, how do you intend for us to master them without help?”

Professor Gore clapped his hands together. “That is precisely why I made this a partner assignment.” He cut the class off as they began to chatter excitedly. “Before you get too excited, I chose your partners for you. I matched everyone according to their strengths and weaknesses, making sure each partner was beneficial to the other. I have the list here, actually.”

As he reached into a folder and began flipping through the papers, Baz glanced over at Simon who had looked crushed from the moment the project was mentioned. He was terrible with those spells last year and it was clear the idea of having a partner made him feel terrible. He probably felt like he would bring his partner's grade down, which was most likely true.

“Okay, here we are. When I call your names please find your partner and have a seat together, I’ll let you start this in class.” He placed on his glasses, staring down his nose at the list. “Agatha and Victoire.” Victoire went to sit by Agatha, displacing the other girl beside her. “Niall and Seamus…”

By this point, Baz tuned out the professor’s voice. He opted to stare at the board instead, trying to make a decision on what he and his partner should choose. None of those spells were impossible, though a few were harder than most. Whatever creature they chose, he thought, smoothing a hand through his hair and sitting back in his chair, they ought to decide on one that could be defeated with fire.

“And last but not least,” said Gore, clearing his throat, “Baz and Simon.”

Baz was stirred back to attention when Simon shot up and interjected with: “You’ve got to be kidding, Professor.” He looked disgusted. 

Baz didn’t say anything. He felt like grabbing Simon by the arm, yanking him down into a chair, and telling him to breathe. He never would; it was against his morals to be too gentle with Simon. He didn’t have any time to say anything anyway. Professor Gore called them both to the front by his desk and told everyone else to start working.

“Great job, Snow. Now you’re taking time out of our project just to whine about your partner,” Baz hissed under his breath, shoving his hands in his pockets. Why did Simon always have to make such a big deal out of things?

Because he was Simon, Baz thought. He was a ticking time bomb and Baz always cut the wrong wire, setting him off. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not every chapter will switch perspective. It's going to be uneven, I can tell already, because I just go with what I'm feeling.


	3. Not Another Theory

“Listen, Snow,” huffed Baz as they stepped into the hall after class, “I don’t feel like arguing with you. Just meet me in the library tomorrow night to work on this project. We have to do it together, whether we like it or not.”

Simon watched Baz turn on his heel and walk off, collected despite their argument. He was angry with having to be paired up with Baz, but he’d cooled off slightly when he’d talked to Gore. Sure, he had hinted not so subtly at how useless Simon was by saying he’d placed them together because Simon was good with magical creatures and Baz was brilliant at spells, so Baz could help him improve. He also had given them some long speech about how he wanted them “to see past their differences” and become acquaintances if nothing else. Still, he was a teacher and Simon had to respect his decision. At least he wouldn’t feel as terrible for bringing their grade down a little. Baz deserved it.

Simon raked his hand through his hair. He had one more class before break, then he could tell Penny all about what just happened and how Baz was probably going to jinx him or something. At least the next class was - he looked down at his list. He let out a loud “ah-ha” causing a second year that had been peacefully walking down the corridor to jump, and he strode down the hall in the opposite direction he had tried to go before.

He had Ancient Runes with Penny. She made him take it, saying that she needed it and he may as well take some electives similar to hers, that required less work, so they could study together.

\-----

“All I’m saying is,” Penny began, swirling her cup of pumpkin juice idly in her right hand, “it won’t be horrible for your grade to be paired up with Baz. It’s not like he’s going to do anything to you, Simon. His grade depends on your performance as well.” She looked down her glasses at Simon as if daring him to question her reasoning. “Plus, I’m done with listening to you complain about it. It’s only the first day of classes and you’re already distracting me in my main courses with outrageous theories on how evil Baz is.”

Simon huffed and took a large bite out of a turkey leg, to which Agatha sighed. She hated it when he took large bites and often called it unbecoming. She always said that it didn’t matter how boyishly cute Simon was, if he kept eating like that, he’d never make it in life outside of Hogwarts. Nonetheless, she was soon distracted by some Hufflepuff guy sitting at the table across from theirs and didn’t make any more comments.

Simon continued staring down Penny as she ate her food until Baz walked by and Niall “accidentally” bumped into their table. Simon raised his eyebrows daringly at Penny, grumbling out unintelligible words behind his mouthful of sweet potatoes, Penelope ignored him.

“Well,” sighed Agatha, “I can already tell how this year is going to go. I hope you don’t mind, but I will not stand another year of you trying to convince us that Basilton is the next heir of Slytherin and is going to set a Basilisk on us - when we all know Harry Potter killed the last one known to exist.” She gracefully swung her legs over the side of the bench and stood. “I’m going to go sit with that McLaggen boy. He’s a prefect.”

Penny waved her off, watching some of the Hogwarts ghosts swoop overhead. Nearly-headless Nick was making friends with some first year Gryffindor students, as was usual. She drew back in disgust when he showed off how he’d gotten his title to a group of curious first-year students that had been gaping up at him for the last few minutes.

“Honestly, at dinner, too.” She shook her head, but Simon noted the slight upwards curl of her lip. “The Gryffindor ghosts certainly are a colorful and loud group. How many toilet seats do you think Fred Weasley will be convincing first years to blow up this year?”

Simon laughed. “Not nearly enough.”

“Well, at least his pranks are classier than Peeve’s have ever been.” Penny sighed, looking up at the ceiling which towered above them and was charmed to look exactly like the night sky with thousands of stars twinkling overhead. Penny used to point out constellations to him when his mouth was too full to hold any conversation. “I just hope there are no exam interruptions this year.”

“Even if there are, we’ll live.” Simon scratched his neck. “Let’s just forget about those for now. I don’t want to start stressing already.”

Penny looked like she might argue, but then she clearly thought better of it. After a while of sitting there, taking in another Hogwarts feast, listening to the excited chatter of students, it was time to head back to their dormitories. Simon couldn’t have been happier to go up the stairs and let the food coma hit him hard. There was nothing like climbing into the beds in their room with the smell of firewood and the warm, welcoming bedclothes that he missed every single second he wasn’t at Hogwarts. His only problem was making it up the flights of stairs to bed when his feet were so heavy and there were so many excited students in the common room. Gryffindors were always boisterous and they really liked throwing parties with loud crackers and lots of games.

Simon managed to make it into his room and mumble a weary, half-hearted goodnight to Seamus, who seemed to have had the same idea about appropriate times for bed, before passing out on top of his sheets with his clothes still on. He wouldn’t even remember walking back to the common room in the morning.


	4. There's a Long History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon was really looking forward to his breakfast until Penny reminded him of his appointment with his least favorite person to ever exist. They have a long and complicated history. Neither one will ever admit they may have let their guards down at one point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have never gotten on Spotify and found Rainbow Rowell, I recommend it. She's made playlists for Baz and Simon and I love listening to them. You could listen to them and read this, though they won't always match up.

Simon rolled out of bed a good bit before breakfast. The promise of a feast three times a day was more appealing to him than sleep. From the time he crawled out of his four-poster bed, the only thing on his mind was the sun pouring through the window and the smell of the Gryffindor common room, which smelled like someone had snuck some cinnamon buns up on this particular morning. 

As he threw on his burgundy sweater, he kicked at Seamus’ bed in an attempt to stop the onslaught of snoring that had already begun for the year. Simon tossed around his hair a bit, trying to make it stick up in a way that didn’t look too much like bed head. He didn’t want Penny to notice that he hadn’t combed it. “Seamus, get up. We’ve had enough of your noise,” he groaned. He got a grunt in return. “Fine, I’ll eat all the bacon on the table by myself.”

“Seamus, get up. We’ve had enough of your noise,” he groaned. He got a grunt in return. “Fine, I’ll eat all the bacon on the table by myself.”

“You can’t,” Seamus whined. “The plates are never empty. Magic school.”

Simon rolled his eyes, sniffing his underarm before deciding to add some deodorant and cologne to his routine this morning. “Fine, see you in class.” After checking himself once in the mirror, Simon grabbed his jacket and headed out of the common room and down the large, mahogany staircase.

The Great Hall was just as beautiful as the dormitories. The sun shining in through the upper windows made the room glow with this hazy yellow light, the kind that allows you to see dust as it floats by. Not to mention the smell of every breakfast food imaginable wafting through the entrance practically put Simon in a daze. He nearly had drool dribbling onto his sweater. He loved being at Hogwarts.

“Good morning, Simon.” Penny didn’t even look up from her book when she greeted him. Great peripheral vision? “Are you prepared for your fateful meeting tonight?” 

A feeling of intense anxiety suddenly washed over Simon and he let out a frustrated groan. “Of course not. Thanks for reminding me,” he pouted, slumping into his seat and grabbing at some food set before them.

Penny closed her book and took to tying back her hair in the meantime. She was always moving. “Oh don't pout like that. It was inevitable, whether I brought it up or not. You’ll be fine, Simon.” She gave him her typical, knowing glance. “I think it’ll be great to put your past behind you and level things out a bit.”

“Of course you do,” he huffed, stuffing a freshly buttered scone into his mouth. With a history like theirs, it could be difficult to move on without throwing a hex or a fist into the mixture.

 

\-----

Simon was boiling over with frustration and it showed as his ears we red and his cheeks were pink. He had been told to wait for McGonagall in the Headmistress office after he left the infirmary. Now he was standing awkwardly with the faces in multiple paintings staring down at him. His mind was racing, speculating about his fate. Would the expel him for jinxing Baz? No. They couldn’t! Baz had pushed him down the stairs and broken his nose and his arm before he had jinxed him.

As he stood there, attempting to come up with some kind of reliable argument, he heard the door open. He immediately started sweating. McGonagall didn’t even wait to get to her desk before she started talking. Simon prayed one of the Headmaster’s portraits would save him. Could they do that? Maybe they’d agree with him?

“Snow,” she said. McGonagall’s voice was sharp and articulate. Even when she wasn’t angry, she was intimidating. Simon was always terrified of her. “How’s your arm?”

Simon gulped. “Much better now, thank you.” This was it, he was going to be expelled before the first semester of his third year even properly began. And to think that he had really been looking forward to quidditch.

“I’m glad to hear that. Mister Snow, are you aware of our policy of jinxing peers?” She had taken her place behind her desk.

“I know we aren’t allowed to…” Simon looked at his feet earnestly. “But, Professor, he shoved me down the stairs! I broke my arm and my nose!”

“I was made perfectly aware of that,” she stated plainly. “Madam Pomfrey was able to fix you up in a couple of hours, but Mister Pitch has been vomiting slugs since yesterday afternoon.”

Simon flushed. “Honestly, Professor, I didn’t know that would happen! I was just yelling an insult at him. I didn’t know that was any kind of magic. My foster sister used to yell that at me every time she got mad. Please, don’t expel me.”

McGonagall sighed. “I’m not going to expel you, Snow. However, both you and Pitch will serve detention with Hagrid as soon as he is…” She cleared her throat. ”Better.”

His luck had turned for the better. Hagrid was friendly. “You’ll be helping him take care of some work in the forest,” she finished.

“Wait, you mean in the Forbidden Forest?” Simon lept to his feet. “You can’t be serious!” Simon felt a shudder roll down his back. “Professor,” he added quickly. He was only thirteen, much too young to die.

“I absolutely am. You’d better be glad I’m making Pitch go with you and that I’m not handing you over to Mr. Filch instead. You’ll be perfectly safe with Hagrid, I assure you.”

Simon gulped and muttered a quick yes ma’am. That was certainly the end of that conversation. 

She dismissed him and told him that she’d let him know when the detention would be carried through, but he had barely heard her. He was much too busy imagining the painful doom he was just sentenced to. 

A few days later, he was told to meet Baz and Filch by the main entrance that evening, an hour after dinner.

He had said goodbye to Seamus and told him that, if he didn’t return, Seamus could have his broomstick. He then slipped out of the common room and to the front entrance where he met Baz and the ever-menacing Filch who was holding a lantern and smiling wickedly while Mrs. Norris rubbed against his shins.

Baz didn’t look at all fazed by any of this, but he did shoot Simon a nasty glare as he descended the steps. Simon was aware he looked ghostly pale the moment he’d left dinner that night and, as they began their journey towards the hut at the edge of the forest, Simon started to sweat. Why couldn’t this be done during the day?

As they continued their descent down the hillside, with Filch’s lantern to light their path, Simon made out howls in the distance. There was no doubt that it was the werewolves that could be found in the forest. Those weren’t even the biggest threat they could face. Simon shook his head and added that to the list of things he would make sure not to think about. Instead, he focused on the firelight that illuminated the windows of the cottage and tried to be grateful that they were going to be with Hagrid. After all, Filch had been muttering about the “old punishments” which he deemed far more efficient than whatever they were about to do in the forest. Apparently, even Filch wasn’t aware of their fate. That wasn’t a comforting thought.

As they reached the small bonfire outside of Hagrid’s cabin, they were greeted by the large figure of the man himself, holding his own lantern and a crossbow. His dog was laying down by his feet, slobbering. His name was Norbert and he produced more drool than Simon thought was possible of any dog. Hagrid told Simon once that he looked exactly like his old dog Fang and had taken the name from a dragon he once owned. Apparently, there wasn’t a creature he wouldn’t try to domesticate. 

Filch was still muttering about something as he turned the boys over to Hagrid. “Yeh’ve done yer bit. I can take it from here,” Hagrid grumbled. He left a pause to watch Filch walk away and then picked up a bucket of something red. It smelled like some type of meat.

“Here yeh go, Simon, yeh take that.”

Simon held it at an arm's length, discovering that it was, in fact, raw and bloody meat. He didn’t want to know what it was for.

Baz was eyeing the forest. “If I may, what exactly are we doing tonight?” He took a second lantern from Hagrid as they began walking towards the edge of the woods.

“We’re gonna feed the school’s herd of thestrals, but we have ter be careful not ter go attractin’ attention from anythin’ else on the way.” Hagrid patted Norbert on the head with one large hand.

“Thestrals?” Simon questioned. 

Baz rolled his eyes and huffed. Simon furrowed his brows. It surely wasn’t something they had covered before in classes and he was a muggleborn so how was he supposed to know what thestrals were?

“The carriages yeh ride ter the entrance every year don’t exactly go pullin’ themselves. They’re pulled by thestrals.” Hagrid held his lantern up. “But they aren’t at all threatenin’.”

“How come we can’t see them?” Simon looked up at Hagrid, genuinely curious. “And, how do we find something we can’t see?”

“It’s not hard,” Baz interjected sounding frustrated. “Some people can actually see them, believe it or not.”

“Some people?” Simon looked over, wondering why Baz sounded so offended.

“People who’ve witnessed death can see ‘em,” Hagrid answered with a slight shrug.

“Oh…” Simon fell silent. Now he got it, but had Baz witnessed death? Could Baz see them?

They walked on the path for probably thirty minutes before Hagrid led them off to the right. Simon kept his mouth shut, watching the ground for branches he might trip on and attempting to ignore the putrid smell of the raw meat. They had plenty of light to reveal their path. However, the trees were shrouded in fog. It heavily restricted their line of sight and reminded Simon of something you might see in a horror movie.

It took another twenty minutes to finally find the thestrals. Simon didn’t know that they had at all, but Hagrid stopped him moving forward with a large arm and took the bucket back from him, handing Simon the lantern instead.

“I’m gonna go first. Yeh two wait here fer a minute.” Hagrid stepped through the trees into a small, less dense area and took out a slab of meat. He tossed it and Simon watched as it stopped mid-air. “There yeh go,” Hagrid practically cooed.

After watching Hagrid feed them for a while, they were ushered over. Hagrid gave them both small slabs of meat. They both tried not to grimace at the sliminess or the blood.

“Baz, yeh can feed the baby ones o’er there. Take Simon too. Be careful an' take it slow.” Hagrid petted the air a bit after pointing them over to some other area with presumably younger thestrals.

Simon made sure to walk right behind Baz. He watched him kneel down slowly and toss his piece down. It was picked up a second later but barely lifted off the ground.

“They’re young ones,” Baz told Simon. “There are four. Here, kneel beside me and lay it down.”

Simon did, awkwardly. It felt weird to be guided through this by Baz, but he was curious.

They knelt there for a while as Baz watched the babies. Simon just, sort of, watched the meat until it was gone. Unfortunately, the silence between them grew stale quickly. Simon tugged at his collar and looked over at Baz, noticing how the lantern light caught his jawline and reflected off his eyes. In that moment, Baz looked the least threatening that Simon had ever seen him. He looked like he was enjoying himself, genuinely.

“So…” Simon began awkwardly. “How come you can…”

“See them?” Baz asked without looking over.

“Yeah.” Simon felt dumb for asking.

“When I was young, my mother was killed.” Baz’s eyes flickered and his jaw clenched a bit. “After You-Know-Who vanished and my mother spoke out against his followers, a group of vampires he’d allied with attacked the mansion. I was in the room with her. She set that wing ablaze and took herself down with all of the vampires. My aunt managed to save me before anything else caught fire.” Baz stared blankly and the young thestral eating at his feet. “That side of my family may have been pureblood elitists with some dark history, but it’s not like they supported killing muggles or muggle-borns.”

“I’m sorry,” Simon muttered. “That’s-”

Suddenly, there was a loud series of crunching noises not too far to their left. Both boys froze in terror, most likely thinking the same thing: werewolves. Hagrid, who was about twenty feet away with some of the larger creatures drew his crossbow.

“Yeh stay put. Send up red sparks if yer in danger an’ green ones if you move ter another place.” Hagrid picked up his lantern and his bow.

Both boys were too frightened to ask him not to leave, but the moment that the lantern faded through the trees, they both became aware of every little noise made around them. When an owl hooted in the trees above, Simon yelped.

“Merlin, would you take a breath, Snow. Stay calm.” Baz’s eyes narrowed. “As long as we stay with the thestrals we should be safe. They’re keen hunters and vicious enemies.”

Simon gulped. “I hate to break it to you, but they left, too.” Simon had only just noticed, but the last of the thestrals were walking away through the trees. At least, he assumed so.The leaves were moving that way and there was no longer any shadows being cast by the figures.

“Well, Hagrid told us to stay here. This ought to be the safest place. I’d rather not get lost following them.” Baz looked like he was thinking something through.

“But, you just said-”

“I know what I just said.” Baz whipped out his wand, not aiming it at Simon, but rather in the direction Hagrid had set off. They still had their lantern, but it did them little good in the mist. “Stay quiet.”

In the silence that followed, Simon hesitantly pulled out his wand and faced the other way. “ _ Lumos _ .”

They stayed like that for what seemed like forever until they heard twigs breaking in the direction that Simon was facing. Baz whipped around, taking predatory aim. He was extremely dangerous and very powerful. If Simon wasn’t extremely frightened of what laid just beyond their range of vision he would have leaped away from Baz.

“Simon,” Baz hissed. “Look down.”

Simon did. Just beyond them, at the edge of the light, there was something crawling across the forest floor. It looked like the ground was moving for a moment and Simon blinked a few times. “What’s happening?”

Baz glanced up. “I think we are being attacked.” He paused. “And I think those are giant spiders.” His voice didn’t raise above a breathless murmur.

When Simon raised his eyes to the trees he nearly blanched. Giant spiders weren’t supposed to live here. He didn’t even know spiders that size existed! For all the excitement and joy the wizarding world brought, it also brought a lot of terror. That was why he was currently frozen in his spot, staring up at two or three spiders that were nearly as large as them, and he figured there might be more. 

Baz was still in a defensive stance, never once twitching as he waited. Simon hadn’t the least idea what they were waiting for, but he sure as hell didn’t know what to do either. So, he just stared, mouth agape.

The problem was, the ground wasn’t moving. That was at least a couple hundred small spiders and they were fast. The boys had already been surrounded by small spiders before they had time to notice, and they couldn’t run away without being jumped on by the large monsters overhead. What was particularly unsettling was the murmurs and whispers around them. The spiders could talk and Simon could hear a few words loud and clear - hungry and eat.

“Baz, I think we should, maybe, get out of here.” He couldn’t tell if his heart was in his feet or stuck in his throat. He thought he might puke.

“What do you plan to do? Outrun them? That isn’t going to happen. Small spiders move fast enough. The big ones…” Baz licked his lips. “Let me think.”

Simon could practically feel how hard Baz was thinking and he figured Baz was going to just set the area ablaze. He knew Baz was good with fire, he’d witnessed it. There was just one issue: what would happen if they set the forest on fire? Even if it was to fend them off, he couldn’t imagine that it would go over well with McGonagall. 

“ _ Nox. _ ” May as well be ready…

When one of the giant spiders fell to the ground, clicking its pincers, Baz lept into action. “ _ Incendio!”  _ He shot the spell towards the spider closest and it let out this terrible, high-pitched screech. Some of the small spiders sizzled up with it. Simon flinched. 

“Run!” Baz shouted, swiftly kicking over the lantern and setting fire to the leaves at their feet to clear the way.

Simon didn’t need to be told twice. He turned on his heel and headed back the way they had come. He aimed  _ stupefy  _ over his shoulder at one of the spiders gaining on them. It missed. Baz repeatedly used fire spells against them and it was working, at least a little. They were putting distance between them. 

Simon could barely breathe and could barely hear a sound. Blood had rushed to his head and was pounding in his ears. He wasn’t sure what was happening, but he kept casting stunning spells behind him. He was pretty sure he yelled ' _ reducto'   _ once . He was useless.

At some point, his foot snagged a branch and he fell flat on his face. As he scrambled to get up and keep running, he realized that they had gained so much distance, he could only hear the spiders on the leaves. Baz was still sprinting, but he’d stop casting spells.

They reached the edge of the woods and collapsed by the hut about three minutes later. It felt like they had been running for ages and, when the reached the hut, both of them collapsed, heaving. Simon guessed that they had stopped being chased a good time ago, and he was certain that they wouldn’t go beyond the woods. 

“I thought we weren’t going to run,” Simon gasped.

“I changed my mind.” Baz flopped onto his back, panting and staring up at the sky. He said nothing more.

After laying there long enough to catch their breath again, Baz sat up.

“We should let Hagrid know where we are,” he sighed and sent up a thing of green sparks.

Simon looked over at Baz. He was obnoxious and stuck-up, but that scene in the woods was one of the most impressive things he’d ever seen. He made sure never to mention it.

 

\-----

“Plus, I thought you hated his family.” Simon picked up another scone. “Long-standing pureblood rivalries, right?”

Penny rolled her eyes. “Only because they were such extremists. I still don’t think this is terrible.” She slid him a plate of butter. He loved butter. He could practically eat a whole plate of it.


	5. Quiet in the Library

It was later in the evening when Baz finally took a seat at their agreed spot in the library. He had skipped dinner, much to the dismay of his groupies. Baz pulled two large books from his bag, setting them before him on the table with a heavy thud that kicked up dust and sent it spiraling through the air. He had bookmarked a few relevant pages for this project already with a piece of parchment which was crumpled and marked up from being shoved in the bottom of his bag.

He’d arrived at the library nearly an hour early to finish up some work on the assignment before Simon could distract him from it. If Baz had what they needed to do down pat, then they could be done quickly and may not have time to argue over the minute details. 

They had always been stuck in some sort of argument, and he couldn’t even remember what exactly had started their rivalry. There was simply this automatic tension with them. Perhaps it stemmed from their competitiveness and the obvious dissimilarities. Baz was neat, well-dressed, intelligent, and came from purebloods. Simon was messy, his best clothes were his uniform, and he was a muggleborn - at least that’s what they assumed because nobody really knew where he came from or who his family was. Maybe if they’d been in the same house, Baz had always thought, they would’ve hated each other less. After all, their feud was fueled by quidditch and class competition. 

Baz used to sigh at his mundanity, but it honestly couldn’t be only his personality. Simon had since become a source of entertainment, if nothing else. What with the way he would become red at even a glance from Baz. There were other things, too, but he would never admit those out loud. 

Baz checked his watch, rolling his shirt and sweater up his arm. Simon was already ten minutes late. He couldn’t have gotten lost on the way to the library, Baz was sure of that. Well, not too sure. With Simon’s sense of direction and the moving staircases, anything was possible. Baz bit his lip, sitting back in his chair and letting out a huff.

About the time Baz was beginning to feel a prick of irritation, Simon came racing around the corner. “There you are,” he puffed, a bit too loudly for Baz’s taste. The ravenclaw girl that had been making eyes at him during lunch had not noticed their close proximity until Simon called out. Simon. His shirt was untucked and sticking out from under his sweater and his bag was open, papers shoved inside haphazardly.

“Quiet down, Snow. This is still a library.” Baz narrowed his eyes and gestured to the chair beside him. He then opened his books, avoiding staring too long at the freckled mess taking a seat beside him. He couldn’t afford to get distracted.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Simon fling his books around the table, sitting back in his chair like it was a lazy-boy. He couldn’t sit properly if his life depended on it. Shaking his head, Baz showed Simon his notes which consisted of about a page of creatures and spells that he’d researched,

“What’s this?” Simon asked, mouth hanging open. Baz had picked up on this a while back, but Simon couldn’t breathe through his nose properly. Baz wasn’t sure if it was just a habit or if he had damaged it a long time ago. He’d been a mouth breather long before Baz had broken his nose dodging that quaffle.

“I did some research beforehand. I figured it’d be best to get this out of the way.” Baz raised an eyebrow, “Is there a problem?”

He noticed the way Simon’s eyes darted to the side and the small creases that showed on his forehead. “No. I guess not.” He tapped his foot against the table. “Then, what creatures did you look into?”

Baz pointed to some notes, straightening up further. “I did some work on about six, but I found vampires and kappa to be at our level. Kappa are fine, but the likelihood of us ever needing to ward one off is slim. I think vampires are more realistic and practical to research. They’re also more interesting,”

Simon was searching Baz’s face like he forgot Baz was an overachiever. It was the same look he gave Penny when she was showing him something from a large book at meals.”Okay. So we just have to write a few paragraphs on them, separately?”

“Yes,” Baz held up the notes. “However, I’ve taken down the basic notes. The chapter about them in our book is fairly short and easy to read. But, we do need to work on spells.”

Simon gave a noticeable shift in his seat, chewing at his lip. “Yeah.” It was practically a croak.

“I chose something simple. One you already know how to do,” Baz stood up, a little haughtily.

“Yeah, thanks for that.” Simon looked up at Baz through his curls. It was sarcastic, and, judging by the way his cheeks puffed, he’d picked up on the way Baz was enjoying the upper-hand.

“No need to thank me. My grade depends on you, so I wouldn’t want you holding me back.” Baz smirked. He really just wanted to kick himself.

“Listen-!” Simon began, standing up with such haste that his chair was sent flying back and hit the ground with a clatter. Baz tensed up. He’d barely said anything and Simon was already about to blow. He must’ve been brooding all day - Baz must’ve pushed a button. As Baz’s shoulders stiffened, the room, already silent, seemed to fall into even more silence and, all the eyes that could, were cast on them. “Listen,” Simon began again, just a bit quieter, “I don’t want to be paired up with you anymore than you want to be paired with me. But… but-” He struggled to find the words as he shoved a finger into Baz’s chest, so close that his fuming breath hit Baz’s face.

Baz grabbed his wrist, dragging Simon’s finger away from his chest and pushed him back with it, his jaw setting in anger. “But, we are stuck together whether we like it or not. So, I’d appreciate if you’d refrain from touching me for the rest of the time we spend together.” He gave Simon another push back and let go of his wrist, eyes locked coldly with Simon’s as he adjusted his grey and green sweater. 

There was a moment of silence before anyone shifted. Simon’s hands were balled into fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white. His eyes did not leave Baz’s face even after Baz had glanced away and started piling his books back into his bag. People quickly bustled to make it look like they had’nt been paying attention.

“Stop standing there like an idiot and get your things. We need to find a room we can practice in.”

Baz practically stomped out of the library, but he wouldn’t let himself look as flustered as Simon. So, he held his head high, bag slung over his shoulder as he leaned against the wall, fuming.

SImon came out soon after, also fuming as he stomped right past Baz. Baz nearly had to jog to catch him. 

“And where are you going, Snow?”

“To an empty room. That’s what you wanted, right?”

For the first time in a while, Baz fell silent. He simply followed Simon. No need to cause him to accidently catch the drapes on fire as they walked.

After walking for awhile, Simon veered into an empty room and Baz glanced around. It was totally empty and he wasn’t sure if he’d ever been in here before. Baz set his stuff down, still visibly frustrated, but he’d eased up a bit.

“So, spells?” Simon went flat faced, like he was trying to look interested to hide his nerves.

“They’re simple,” Baz replied. “Incendio and confundo - both nonverbal. That’s the hard part, but they’re basically the same spell…” Baz rolled up his sleeves and brushed his hair out of his eyes, “and you know incendio.”

Baz also set down his bag, eventually pulling his wand out. It was slender, black, and detailed with vines that wrapped around it. An unbending flexibility, 10 ¾ black walnut with a dragon heart-string core, it was delicate and quick, and he had been warned by Ollivander that it was difficult to please.

“We can give it a try here if you want.”

Simon gulped, grabbing his wand from his back pocket. “Sure.”


	6. The Confundus Charm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baz should have known this wasn't going to go well before hey even began. Now Simon might be learning things he didn't need to know and isn't prepared to handle.

The Confundus Charm was a difficult spell to cast, so difficult that most professors would frown in concentration in order to cast the spell effectively. Therefore, it was a given that it would not be so easy for either of them to produce, especially not Simon. He was having a hard time even verbally getting it right on the dummies they had pulled from the far corner, sweating so profusely that he was having to wipe his forehead after each attempt at this point. Simon couldn’t even tell how long they’d been going at it. Baz was only struggling nonverbally with the spell, and Simon was having a hard time not getting angry at him. The main problem was mainly the lack of light or sound emission from the charm, which very clearly did not help them figure out if they were doing something wrong. They had to instead rely heavily on the reaction of the dummies to tell if they were performing the charm correctly. However, at some point, Simon really messed it up.

He could only tell because the spell hit the dummy at an odd angle and cracked the glass on the wall. He assumed it did rather, because the dummy was knocked back by the shoulder rather than the chest and he saw the giant crack spread across the glass of the mirrors, but, again, that was the issue with the charm. It was impossible to see where it had gone. It was a guessing game that Simon was not doing very well at.

“Bloody hell,” Simon muttered, his shoulders slumping with defeat. He was one failed attempt away from quitting.  “Baz, I’m not getting any better at this,” he huffed. He was a little testy, angry from before in the library and angry that Baz had chosen such a hard spell to have them use.

He realized after a moment, bent over his knees, that Baz wasn’t responding with some snarky comment as he usually would, so he turned around. His eyes opened wide. “Oh, shit.” Baz had been knocked to the floor and was rubbing his head, looking like a deer caught in headlights. It took Simon a split second to realize that the spell had been thrown off the mirror and had, as a result, hit Baz. That realization was followed by a string of curses and frantic “ums” as he rushed to Baz’s side and grabbed his shoulder.

“Hey, are you alright?” he practically shouted. When all he got in return was a dazed look, Simon groaned. “I have to get you to the hospital wing… What am I going to tell Madam Pomfrey?”

With haste, Simon grabbed both of their bags and lifted Baz to his feet, slinging his arm over his shoulder. Baz was practically dead weight until he got him through the door. He was heavier than Simon had expected and a lot more muscular. He could feel Baz’s muscles in his arms and in his back and he couldn’t figure out if what he was feeling was jealousy or not. Wait, of course it was jealousy. What else could it be? He shook his head, continuing to pull Baz along down the corridor, avoiding any strange looks he was getting. He glanced at his face every now and then, hoping to see his confusion clear up so they could avoid going to the hospital wing. However, by the time he could see the doors to the room, Baz was still dazed.

Simon kicked open the door, as his arms were a bit full, and dragged Baz into the wing which was dimly lit as it was getting late and most of the patients were settled in to rest. Madam Pomfrey noticed him before he’d noticed her.

“Oh dear, set him down on a bed,” a voice said right by his side.

Simon jumped before noticing the thin lady at his side. “Oh yes, um… of course.”

Simon did as he was told while Madam Pomfrey began asking questions. He tried answering them, but all he could manage to tell her was that he’d accidentally hit him with the Confundus Charm while they had been practicing for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

She clicked her tongue. “Honestly, the way they have you practicing these spells...” She emphasized ‘you’ in a way that suggested she was more concerned with the fact he was allowed to do magic than with the way they had been practicing.

“Y-yeah…” He laughed awkwardly. “Um, what should I do with his bag?”

“Just set it by the bed.” Madam Pomfrey said this and then turned to go to the cabinet on the back wall. She looked for a bottle and then, when she seemed to have found the right thing, returned to Baz’s side where Simon was standing still shocked at the look on Baz’s face, again noticing the bruise he had on his jaw and the shadows under his eyes.

“Do you plan on standing there all evening?” Her voice startled Simon who shook his head. “Well then, I suggest you get back to your common room. You standing here isn’t going to make the spell wear off any faster and he’s going to need rest. I’m sure he will be just fine.”

Simon knew Madam Pomfrey was a stern woman and he knew not to question her so he nodded. “You’ll… um… will you let me know when he is okay?”

“I’ll make sure to let you know, Mr. Snow. Now you should go get some rest. Judging by the look on your face you could use it, and the sight of you is going to disrupt my other patients.” She gave him a firm look before turning around as if to say she was done with him.

 

Simon didn’t sleep that night, his head running through how many people were going to hear about this and how long-lasting the talk would be. He was certainly going to be in trouble with McGonagall and Baz’s little gang. He didn’t eat at breakfast, despite how wonderful it smelled and Penny’s nagging about him not eating. That morning it just made his head swim even more, to the point where he had to excuse himself to the bathroom until his classes began. He couldn’t even focus in class, not that he normally could, but he usually tried to focus at least. 

During his break, he decided to go to the hospital wing, just in case Madam Pomfrey forgot to let him know that Baz was okay or something. However, he couldn’t bring himself to walk in for fear of being fussed at and so he took to pacing outside, pretending he just needed to go down the hall to get to a class of his. To his great relief, on his fifth - not so discreet - walk past the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey swung the door open and exclaimed, “Oh would you come in already. You’re making me anxious pacing like that.” Simon turned bright red, not bothering to ask how she knew he had been walking by, and followed the thin woman over to Baz who seemed to be fast asleep. He was instructed in a hushed voice to sit there, that ‘Mr. Pitch’ seemed to be clear of all effects of the spell but needed to rest.

Simon sat by in one of the chairs by the bed and chewed on his lip, his hands balled into tight fists on his knees as he glanced anxiously at Baz. He was trying hard not to openly stare, but he was still very shaken about seeing Baz like he had last night and very concerned about the consequences of causing him this injury. He just couldn’t get the look Baz gave him off his head. For a moment, Baz, who always looked ready to attack him or anyone else, had seemed innocent and unsure, maybe even a little scared. And here he was looking innocent again, laying on a bed in the hospital wing, his face relaxed and his eyes not piercing through Simon. Once more, Simon noticed the bruise on his jaw that had faded but hadn’t quite disappeared. He also noticed, because Madam Pomfrey had made him take off his button up, that the short-sleeved undershirt revealed additional bruises on Baz. Simon, without thinking, reached out to touch a particularly large spot on Baz’s upper arm. This was a mistake, as Baz jolted awake and, seeing Simon sitting there, then shot up, grabbing his arm as if to hide his arm from Simon. Simon’s eyes met Baz’s for a brief moment and were met by the piercing gray of Baz’s eyes once again - as well as a look he hadn’t seen before, something pained that seemed to reside somewhere in his subconscious. But, as he opened his mouth to apologize, the ever-concerned Madam Pomfrey was at Baz’s side, kicking Simon out for disturbing him.

The large doors to the wing closed heavy behind Simon who looked down at the hand that had touched Baz’s arm. Simon’s head started to swim again. Why was Baz so beat up? Why did he give Simon that look?


	7. Golden Water Spouts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why is Baz trying to hide the bruises on his arms from Simon? As Simon's suspicion grows, Baz seems more and more ready to break.

Simon still had a few classes after the encounter with Baz, none of which were with Penny. So, by the time he finally did see Penny at dinner that evening, he had had plenty of time to work himself into a frenzy with all of his ideas and suspicions as to what the hell was going on.

“Woah, calm down,” Penny said, shaking her head. “You’re telling me that, because of some weird bruises that he got over the summer, you think he was out messing around with dark magic?” She took a sip of her pumpkin juice, a strand of bright blue hair falling into her face.”Simon, did it ever occur to you that he may have just been practicing Quidditch?”

“Then why would he have given me such a weird look when he knew I had seen the bruises on his arms? Penny, I think there is something going on. That’s why he’s seemed more on edge.” Simon leaned across the table, lowering his voice. “Have you not seen the dark circles under his eyes or noticed how he’s distanced himself from his little group?”

Penny let out a deep breath. “No, I haven’t. Do you want to know why?” She plopped food onto a plate in front of Simon which had, just like all the previous meals, remained empty. “Because I don’t spend my entire day staring at and obsessing over Basilton Grimm-Pitch. Now, just eat something and move on.”

Reluctantly, Simon took a bite out of a turkey leg, stopping their conversation and not a moment too soon. Penny’s gaze shot up above Simon’s head and she seemed to nearly choke on the bite of tart she had just taken. When Simon turned to look back, he also almost choked on his food. There was Baz Pitch himself, standing with his hands shoved into his pockets and looking down at Simon who had been so preoccupied explaining his theories to Penny that he didn’t even notice Baz had been released from the hospital wing.

“Simon,” he began. Whatever he was trying to say seemed to be hard for him to get out. “I need to talk with you a moment.”

Penny found words before Simon did. “And you can tell me too. If you’re going to tell Simon. I’ll hear it eventually.” She crossed her arms, looking up at Baz as if to say ‘try me.’

For a moment, his eyes darted to her, but the gaze didn’t linger. “I don’t believe that you need to be in the room for us to discuss our group project, which, as you can tell, is not going so well.” He narrowed his eyes, looking at the other expectantly. “Simon?”

Simon gulped and gave Penny an apologetic look, standing up and making an effort to look taller standing by Baz. He then followed him out into the hall and up the steps. After he had been following Baz for what seemed like forever, he stopped. “Baz, look, I’m so sorry for last night. You know I’m not good with this stuff”

Baz kept walking. “This isn’t about that, Snow. Come on.”

“Wait - what?” Simon started following again, taking a few large strides to catch up with Baz as they climbed up a flight of stairs. “Then why did you tell Penny it was about the project?” Baz didn’t respond. “Merlin’s beard, would you at least tell me where we are going?”

“The prefect bathroom, Snow. Don’t get your panties in a bunch.”

Simon always forgot that Baz was a prefect, probably because he couldn't imagine someone like him being given any form of responsibility basically ever. Then again, Baz was second in their year, right behind Penny in school. For a moment, Simon was concerned by the fact that he was being led to a basically empty bathroom far away from the rest of the school by a guy that he had just put in the hospital wing, but he’d had many near-death experiences playing Quidditch and, gripping his wand tightly in one hand, decided not to ask any more questions.

Eventually, he was brought to the prefect bathroom on the fifth floor. There was a statue of Boris the Bewildered to the left of the door and Baz, seeming not to mind that Simon heard him, told the statue the password. “Pine Fresh,” Baz stated clearly. With a nod from the statue, the door opened and in they both went. Simon, of course, couldn’t help but ogle at how large and extravagant the bathroom was. The place was huge and had a high ceiling that seemed to be emitting sunlight, with one side of the room lined with large stalls and a large pool-like tub on the opposite wall that sank into the ground with what must have been hundreds of golden taps, each decorated with different jewels and he wondered what they meant. He also wondered how inconvenient this must be for the prefects as it was a good bit away from each common room. He was snapped out of his thoughts when Baz cleared his throat. Simon, embarrassed, shut his mouth and turned to face Baz suddenly aware he may be in danger of being jinxed.

Baz, however, was leaning against the sinks in the middle of the room where the mirror behind him gave off just how alert Simon looked, as well as his red cheeks. He was folding his arms, trying to look cool. Simon figured he was trying, as he liked to think it didn’t just come naturally to Baz.

“I need you to not mention the bruises you saw to anyone.”

Simon raised an eyebrow. That wasn’t what he had been expecting, or maybe it was. It did, however, confirm his suspicions that the bruises were something Baz had gotten doing something he shouldn’t have been.

“Why not?” Simon was immediately on the prowl. “Been messing around with dark arts in the wrong places and now you don’t want the headmistress to find out?” Simon took a step towards Baz. “You wouldn’t want to be demoted from prefect or expelled would you?”

“Seriously,” Baz said, exasperated. “If that were the case then I would have had an issue with Madam Pomfrey seeing them, wouldn’t I?”

Simon was thrown off for a moment but took another step towards Baz. “Then, where did you get them.”

“I’m not going to tell you that, Snow,” Baz countered, standing up straight once more. “Not only because it is none of your business, but also because you probably couldn’t grasp it. After all, you managed to miss a very large target standing less than ten feet away with a spell we learned a year ago.”

Simon practically growled lunging forward and attempting to punch Baz in the face, forgetting all about his wand. Baz dove out of the way, catching Simon by the back of his collar and pulling him back forcefully so that his own shirt was choking him.

“Would you stop acting like a child for two minutes? You are completely insufferable.” Baz huffed, releasing Simon who immediately sputtered and coughed. “I was trying to act civil by politely asking you not to mention my private life to other people. You shouldn’t have been in the hospital wing anyway, Snow. We aren’t friends and I didn’t need a caretaker. You did enough damage hitting me with that charm and I am not going to go crying to your head of house. . . not if you keep your mouth shut.” His glare was stone cold and deadly.

Simon lowered his gaze to the floor. “It seems like not even your friends cared enough to notice you were gone. I didn’t see them in the hospital wing.”

Baz scoffed. “Probably not, because they were kind enough not to show up until Madam Pomfrey called them in. Some  _ people _ ,” he spit, “understand common courtesy.”

Simon opened his mouth to argue, his brows furrowed, but couldn’t find the words he wanted. Instead, he gave Baz a glare. “If that’s all you had to say, then I’m going back to dinner.”

Baz gestured his arm to the door, giving him a look that he took to mean he could go. “We still have to work on this project, but we can talk about that in class tomorrow.”

Simon didn’t say another word on his way out. He pushed past Baz and out the door. He then got a little lost trying to find his way back to dinner, but somehow managed to find his way back once he got to the staircases. He was practically sprinting down the stairs, alerting some of the paintings as he went by, hoping Penny would still be eating but aware that was unlikely. To his surprise, Penny was still waiting there for him, reading a book in the candle-light of the hall despite the fact it was now much less busy than when she usually went back to her room after eating. She looked up at him questioningly when he sat down across from her.

“Well, that didn’t take long. I wasn’t sure you were going to come back in time to get dinner. I was about to send your dinner up with…” She trailed off, noticing the fire in Simon’s eyes. “Simon, what happened?”


End file.
